


Silence

by TsingaDark



Series: Lost Inside My Mind [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9711338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsingaDark/pseuds/TsingaDark
Summary: There’s no way Phil hasn’t noticed by now. Dan’s been so obvious about everything lately, can’t even bring himself to be subtle anymore, to try and hide what’s going on in his mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware that this fanfic is quite blunt about things like suicide and that there's mentions of not eating properly and other symptoms of depression (which is why I've put the rating on Teen).
> 
> Also, keep in mind that this is a work of fiction, but if you feel like this or feel like this is where you might end up, please talk to someone and get help. There's no shame in getting help from others.

There’s no way Phil hasn’t noticed by now. Dan’s been so obvious about everything lately, can’t even bring himself to be subtle anymore, to try and hide what’s going on in his mind. 

He rarely eats, is always up before Phil and lies that he’s eaten already but that they can still watch an episode of the anime they’re currently on. Dan’s stomach doesn’t even rumble anymore at the sight of Phil having cereal, he’s never really hungry anymore. 

He only eats whenever he can’t avoid it, when Phil makes lunch or dinner, sometimes Dan’s favourite dish, and he can’t bring it over himself to decline whatever Phil’s made. 

Sometimes Dan prepares their food, even if it doesn’t happen that often anymore, and sometimes, he does feel something akin to hunger but then when he eats it doesn’t satisfy him. Hardly anything does these days. 

He used to love sleeping, used to love just lounging around in bed or on the sofa, now he just lies there staring at the ceiling or at an object in his line of sight, not relishing the smell of his newly washed duvet or the feeling of weightlessness he sometimes gets when he’s been lying in the same spot for too long. The sound of Phil in the kitchen - the opening and closing of the fridge, a pot being filled with water, the loud opening of drawers - doesn’t trigger excitement in him. All it does is make him groan and bury himself further into his blanket, willing Phil to just eat on his own and leave Dan by himself. 

He doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want the company, doesn’t want the pity, but most of all he doesn’t want Phil to worry. He knows that his behaviour is basically screaming ‘ _ I’m not fine, I’m not okay, please help me _ ’, but he doesn’t want it to be. He doesn’t want Phil’s attention like this, even if it might make him feel better. 

All he wants is to lie here, try to quell down the voice inside his head that’s telling him that he is a waste of space and that no one likes him and that he should just  _ stop _ . He constantly tells himself that  _ I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay _ , when he’s anything but and knows that fact quite well. 

It’s not even that there’s any reason to be like this. Apart from his obvious lack of skill in living and the self-hatred that’s ever-present, of course. There’s no need to refuse to eat, no logic behind lazing around the whole day, literally not doing anything other than breathing and going to the loo once in a while. And still, for him there is. Because he’s not worth anything and he doesn’t deserve to feel good and he shouldn’t take up anymore space and time than absolutely necessary. 

He still forces a smile onto his lips and tries to be completely normal whenever it’s needed, mostly when he’s around Phil because there’s no one else he sees these days anyway, too tired and too worn-out and too stupid to go outside or meet friends.

Sometimes he thinks about the inevitability of death, much like he used to when he had existential crises now and then, but now it’s more of a ‘ _ death seems like a much nicer option than living _ ’ and less of a ‘ _ we’re all going to die anyway one day _ ’. The thing is, he doesn’t want to die, or rather, he doesn’t want to kill himself. He doesn’t think he’d have the energy for that anyway. All he wants is to just not exist for a while. Being in a coma for ten years or simply sleeping sounds better than whatever state he’s in now. If only he could sleep and just stop thinking for a bit, and not lie awake until the early hours of the morning and then sleep fitfully for less than a handful of hours. 

He hasn’t changed out of his pyjama for four days, at least he thinks it’s been four days. He doesn’t really care much about the concept of time anymore, doesn’t care when one days ends and the next begins. 

He probably smells, most definitely smells, since he hasn’t washed himself properly either, and while his hair still looks fine because he always puts so much product in it, the rest of him doesn’t. But that’s okay. It’s not like a lot of people are going to judge him for it since no one will see him like this. And honestly, he doesn’t even care anymore. 

There’s a knock on his door, startling Dan out of his thoughts, and he wants to turn around to ask Phil why he’s felt the need to even knock since he doesn’t normally, but then the mattress dips down next to him and Phil’s warm body settles down next to him. 

He can feel Phil’s thigh at his back, not pressing into it, just touching, and Dan sighs almost inaudibly. Warmth radiates from Phil and it’s soothing in a way, and for a moment Dan doesn’t think, but then the thoughts are back with renowned vigor and he immediately feels uncomfortable. He doesn’t want Phil to see him like this, doesn’t want his pity that he knows will be coming, he doesn’t want any of this. He’s about to say something, tell Phil to get out, to leave him alone, but then suddenly there’s a hand in his hair, the touch soft and gentle.

“It’s okay, just relax,” Phil says, like Dan hasn’t been lying here for the last few hours, not having moved once, and for the first time in what feels like forever Dan feels the need to cry. There aren’t any tears forming and his eyes don’t sting but he wants them to and that’s a feeling he hasn’t had in a while. He can’t even remember the last time he cried. 

Phil’s hand is still in his hair and all of a sudden Dan feels the need to do something,  _ anything _ , so he turns around and snuggles up to Phil, his hand lightly gripping Phil’s Star Wars pyjama pants. Phil, who’s sitting with his back to the headboard, looks down at him and there’s a slight, almost not there but visible to Dan, smile on his lips and then his hand resettles in Dan’s hair and he goes back to reading the book that he’s holding up with his other hand. 

Dan doesn’t do anything else than just lying there, his gaze focusing on a stormtrooper and staying there for quite a while. At least that’s what it feels like. At some point Phil’s hand wanders lower and his fingers dig into the base of Dan’s neck, massaging the muscles there, and Dan’s eyes flutter closed. 

He knows that they can’t stay like this forever, knows that this tiny moment of peace won’t change anything in the grand scheme of things, knows that they’ll have to talk about this eventually, sooner rather than later. He still won’t want to eat tomorrow and he will still spend most of his time in bed, not sleeping, but for now this is nice and exactly what he needs - just, Phil by his side, noticing him and taking care of him and simply being here. Because there is nothing worse than being alone with that treacherous voice in his head chanting ‘ _ I want to die, I want to die, I want to die _ ’, because he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t. Not while Phil’s around. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [losing you before my eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9768845) by [keeplovinanyway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeplovinanyway/pseuds/keeplovinanyway)




End file.
